


Strangers In A Bar

by handlewithkara



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alien Biology, Condoms, Established Relationship, F/M, Kinktober 2019, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:48:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22057291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handlewithkara/pseuds/handlewithkara
Summary: Season 2 established relationship.Kara has a request and Mon-El is happy to oblige.For the kinktober prompt:- outdoor sex
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Mon-El
Comments: 25
Kudos: 38
Collections: Kinktober 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language and I don't have a beta reader :(

“You want me to pretend that I don’t know you.” Mon-El tilts his head, his brow knitting up in confusion.

“Yes.”

“But why?”

She shrugs helplessly. She isn’t completely sure either, she just knows that it’s something there, buzzing on the outskirts of her brain. Something wished for, for undiscernable reasons.

“Just do it. Humor me.”

*~*~*

She stands at the bar. There is a light scraping noise as she pushes her drink back and forth on the counter. It’s a human bar. They offer nothing strong enough to dent her alien metabolism, but here she needs it as an auxiliary prop for the little game she’s playing.

Kara’s fingers keep sneaking up to her face, wanting to push back her glasses. Glasses that aren’t there. It always feels strange to her to be out like this, without having them to hide behind. Without them helping her slip into being Kara Danvers. Except … this is the point here, her battering heart reminds her. She’s here precisely because she doesn’t want to be Kara Danvers tonight.

The door opens. She can feel the gust of wind. Then the sound of footsteps approaching.

“Hi,” he says, all nice and chipper. “I’m Mike. I’m an intern at Catco. May I buy you a drink?”.

Kara hesitates. Too blunt. To close to what she told him to say. And yet, despite all of that, despite the doubts he voiced when she suggested this, he is good at it. Surprisingly good, considering he didn’t want to do it. He looks so fresh-faced. Boy next door. Totally believable.

“I’m…” She blinks. She, she didn’t think that far. Of all the things she planned, she forgot to consider that she would have to give him a name. “I’m in town for business.“

“Fun,” he says and slips into the seat next to her, “What kind of business?”

“Uhm. Marketing? No wait, politics. Fundraising.”

“Sounds interesting. Had any time to see the sights of the city?”

Kara blinks. He’s quite smooth, his smile open and inviting. Except, he has put her on the spot, forcing her to come up with a story, when she hasn’t thought that far. “Just a little bit.”

He hops on the stool next to her, and his smile brings that bartender to them. Her mouth opens in protest before she remembers that this is why she’s here. That tonight she wants to be the kind of person who would take a stranger up on his offer.

Mon-El, no Mike, looks at her, with a slight tilt of his head. “About that drink?”

“Yes, I mean, thank you.”

He smiles warmly, a best effort to dispel her nervousness. “Something sweet? You look like you want something sweet.”

“No!” she interjects a bit too quickly. Not sweet. That’s Kara’s thing. “Something strong,” she tells the bartender. “Bourbon.” That sounds like it would be strong.

Mon-El clinks their glasses together. “To the sights of National City.”

“Yes,” Kara replies. Nervousness flutters through her belly and as she brings the drink to her lips she reminds herself to make sure _not_ to pull a face if it tastes all gross. “To the sights.”

“The ones you haven’t seen yet,” he reminds her.

“Yes,” Kara laughs despite herself.

“I could take your dancing,” he suggests.

Her breath hitches in her throat. What it would be like, to go dancing with him. A myriad of different scenarios snake through her head at once. No, she decides. It would take too long. Her nervousness can’t take the wait. “I don’t have that kind of time,” she explains apologetically. “I’ll be flying back first thing tomorrow morning.”

“That’s too bad,” he says and holds her gaze for just a smidgen too long and Kara notes the way that makes her feel breathless. She’s always liked his eyes. But she didn’t know she would like them as much even here in this classy bar’s dim light.

Bianca, she decides. Bianca, that’s gonna be her name for tonight. Bianca the businesswoman. The well-traveled, experienced one. The one who could look into his eyes, like what she sees and take advantage of, all cool and composed, not gasping like a schoolgirl. What would Bianca see when she looks at him? What would she think? Mike, the intern.

Would she think that he was a known entity? An acceptable risk? Would she be looking at his lips like this? Would her gaze slide down his body, would she wonder whether he has a nice dick, whether he knows what to do with his hands?

Kara inches closer on the stool. Her hand ventures out, faking casualness, the tips of her fingers brushing against the belt loops of his jeans.

A spark of surprise lights up briefly in his eyes, followed by an almost imperceptible nod as he leans further into the personal space she’s offering. Their eyes meet. His arm brushes against hers. This isn’t what she planned. In her fantasy, there was cool, witty banter and debate, the two of them circling each other as sexy lounge lizards. Except at least half the wires in her brain have fried spontaneously and each one of them has forgotten what ‘witty’ is supposed to be.

Kara looks at him, breathless. “Want to get out of here, Mike?”

He smiles and signals the bartender. Her heart beats faster and she dives for her wallet before he can. “Let me get that.”

She’s a businesswoman. Strong. Powerful. Going after what she wants.

She throws the money on the counter and slides off her barstool, in a way that she hopes looks graceful. Mon-El’s hand brushes against her back. There it is. Her heart races. Her mouth goes dry. They are different. They are not Kara and Mon-El. They are Bianca and Mike. Just two strangers meeting in a bar.

*~*~*

They are barely out the door when they first kiss. It’s hungry and urgent and everything she hoped it would be when he backs her up against the wall. Her hand grips his hair, tugging, pulling his mouth right, just how she wants it. It’s like a jolt when she feels his tongue against hers. Her fingers grasp the lapels of his jacket and she curses herself for her choice in pencil skirt when all she wants if his thigh between her legs so she can grind her pussy down on it and excite it with blunt dispersed pressed.

Instead, it’s her chest, her whole body that rubs against him, her nipples hard against her expensive, classy new bra. Her business lady bra. Her mouth gets more insistent, hungrily drawing in his tongue. _Do you want to fuck me?_ Kara thinks as she palms his ass through his jeans. _Do you want to fuck me, Mike?_ And it’s Bianca touching him. Confident. Demanding. And he’s there, meeting her, move for move.

From the outside, they must look like any horny and likely drunk couple, nothing about them betraying that their tight embrace could probably crush diamonds. The secrecy of it just hikes up her palpitating excitement. Her undulations grow more urgent. She feels and hears his breath right next to her ear and digs her fingers into him. Close, so close to just screaming out all her pent-up lust. Except…

“Mike, Mike, do, do you have a condom?” she gasps.

He stops and blinks. The traditions of their planets ensure that they don’t need it to prevent offspring, just like their alien physiques and the DEO’s relentless monitoring protect them from sexually transmitted diseases. But here, they are not Supergirl and Mon-El, two aliens from worlds where children are grown in pods, in a place where the yellow sun sends each of their cells into regenerative overdrive. No, right now they are Bianca and Mike, just two reckless humans hungry to do the stupid thing and go at it with a stranger.

He looks at her, all sexy and disheveled, clearly struggling to regain his ability to speak intelligible words. “Uhm, We could get some?”

“Yeah,” she says breathlessly, her heart beating wildly in her chest. “We should.”

*~*~*

She stands in the mostly empty car park, waiting in the shadows between two black sedans, clutching her light coat around her body.

Her stomach twists with what Kara isn’t sure. Fear? Excitement? Humiliation? Arousal? Her cheeks are flushed as she images what the clerk must think of them, must think of Mon-El. Must think of him when a pack of condoms and maybe at the most some gum are the only thing that he slaps down on the counter. That Mon-El is there for just one last pit stop before he comes out here. Out to _fuck_. And how that means that there must be somebody out there, waiting for him. A lucky lady or maybe some lucky guy. Waiting to receive him.

Kara shifts her weight from one foot to the other. Her left breast itches and all Kara wants to do is to slide her hand into her blouse. Squeeze the obstinate mammary. No, pinch it to make that distracting feeling leave. The tip of her tongue darts out, needily trying to wet her lower lip and have it stay that way.

Other late-night shoppers walk by. Teenagers meet up to restock before hitting the streets. Can they tell? Can they tell why she is here, standing outside the drugstore in the cold, with her knees shaking and her panties damp waiting for the man inside to get everything ready to fuck her? This man she pretends is a stranger, exciting, dangerous.

She can see him inside, leaning on the counter, smiling, making small talk with the owner, while she’s out there ready to scream in frustration and suppressed desire. It feels like fifty lifetimes.

At last, he walks out, the desired purchase fitting effortlessly in the back pocket of his jeans. His eyes light up when she spots her. Kara swallows hard and motions him to be quiet, as she ducks deeper into the shadows of the parking cars.

Her heart races as he walks towards her and quickly and quietly she takes his hand, pulling him along with her.

*~*~*

National City’s central park is dark and deserted at this hour. It’s no coincidence that she has lead him here. Maybe, maybe this is isn’t where “Bianca” would go, where both of them would go. National City is safe, safe due to Supergirl, but that doesn’t make the central park or the docks fun places to be for most humans, late at night. Maybe Bianca wouldn’t know, maybe she wouldn’t care, maybe she would find it exciting to go to a seedy, dangerous place with her one-night stand beau.

Kara grips Mon-El’s hand tighter. They duck between bushes into a small clearing, a small patch of grass, dominated by a large tree. It’s perfect for their purposes. She turns to him. “Enough privacy?” she asks, trying to make her voice husky and seductive.

He smiles. “Whatever works for you.”

Their lips find each other, hungrily, as he backs her up against the old oak. They toy with each other and Kara tries to decide what she should make him do. At last, she pushes him back playfully, with just a finger against his chest, taking note of the intrigued spark in his eyes. Taking his hand in hers, she pulls it up to her lips. His knuckles feel rough against her lips, as she laves them with her tongue.

 _You want it,_ she thinks, _you sure do_. Her pulse races. She is sleek and sexy, just like she wants to be. Not regal and moral, like Supergirl is. Not nervous and awkward like Kara Danvers. She loves them, they are her, but in this moment, Kara decides, she needs this, needs this vacation from herself.

With a come-hither smile, she turns around, then slowly, teasingly bends over. Her fingers dig into the tree’s rugged bark, as she presents her offer. To him, her nighttime beau. Of course, he comes for it, his hands on her hips. Her face is red, barely covered by her long hair as he struggling with her clothing and pulls her dress up from behind. His fingers hook into the waistband of her panties and drag them down her legs. She’s wet, oh, so wet, nervous with excitement.

What if they could see her? The humans. Like this. Their hero, their savior, their Supergirl, their saint, bending over in a public park to receive her boyfriend’s _cock_. No, she could never do that. Not even Kara Danvers could, sweet, strong, idealistic Kara Danvers who has to get up in the morning and look her co-workers in the face. That’s why she is, that’s why she has to be Bianca, strong, tough, independent, in charge of her desire, a figment of her imagination, cooked up for just this one night.

So what if she wants to bend over? Bianca is strong and powerful, who’s gonna judge her if that’s what gets her rocks off? If she likes it messy and deliciously naughty. Behind her, she can hear the rustling of his clothes and he opens his pants and releases his member from his underwear, followed by the tantalizing crinkling of the condom package being opened. Her pulse races in her throat.

“Mike,” she moans. “Mike.” Kara’s shoulders shake and her fingers dig deeper into the bark, as she pictures their sounds drawing in the unseen eyes of the park’s homeless or late-night patrons. She presses her lips together. Her skin is hot and burning. Has, has he done this before? With somebody else? Her paranoid mind immediately sparks the question, before she quickly shushes it down.

His hand moves to caress her wet sex and it’s good, so good. He steps up to her, guiding his cock. Kara sucks her lower lip in her mouth. The head of his cock bumps against the underside of her butt, he traces it along her perineum until it has reached the right spot to tease her opening. Even the impersonal nature of his dick being kept from direct contact by a protective layer of latex is strangely, unsettlingly hot. It makes her burn, burn all over. Makes her nipples ache that makes her fear for a second they could develop the ability to unleash bursts of fire scorching through her clothes.

As if he could read her mind, his hand snakes to the front, catching the neckline of her blouse, hooking his finger into the bridge of her bra. He pulls, making her gasp as he exposes her sensitive breasts to the night’s cold air. His hand wanders back, back onto her ass. Each of his thrusts rock her forward, forward against the tree, her naked breasts swinging with the rhythm. Her voice bursts from her chest in erratic moans as her hips tremble when he manages to hit that magic angle that makes her insides quake.

It takes her breath away and makes her feel like an enormous, bulbous church bell being struck, over and over, vibrations moving out in waves from the point of contact, building and building in power, except there is no sound. Her moans grow louder, uncontrolled.

 _Mike. Mon-El._ It all blurs together, into just this powerful cock, taking her closer to ecstasy, those strong hands on her ass, encouraging to roll her butt. He drags his blunt nails along her thigh and one hand slides between her legs, providing the additional pressure that turns her moans into little screams. His other hand fondles her butt, caressing it like its a thing of wonder, tracing its contours. One more loving journey over it and then he pinches her cheek. It’s like a wordless order for her to let go and fall apart and she follows it without any more questions.

*~*~*

His cheek rests on her back. Kara can tell that he’s a bit wobbly too, as he, almost shyly, pully out to liberate her from his weight. She listens for the sound of the condom being slid off, committing it to memory. He wraps it into a tissue and stores it away in his pocket, instead of just throwing it on the ground, she notes. A deep breath from him, a rustling of clothes and then a tentative hand one more reaching for her behind, caressing her lower cheeks. Trying to make sure that she’s okay.

“I hope you had a nice time,” he says gently.

“I did,” she tells him, for both Kara and Bianca. She turns around slowly and smooths down her skirt. _I like it. I like your cock inside of me._

“So, you think you’ll be visiting again?” he asks sheepishly.

Kara ponders. It felt good. Exhilarating. Dangerous. A walk on the wild side. Her skin still burns from his temporarily unfamiliar touch.

But maybe some things shouldn’t be dabbled in too much.

“I don’t know,” she says. “I might.”

“Well, I’ll always be up for it. If that’s what you want.”

“Thank you,” she says, “thank you for giving me this fantasy.”

“Sure, any time.”

Kara swallows hard. She looks down. “Was, was it okay for you?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t it be?”

She licks across her lips, nervously. “Let’s, let’s go home. Mon-El,” she adds pointedly.

His head jerks up, in surprise. Surprise that she broke the spell.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, “let’s do that.”


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This the no smut epilogue where Kara and Mon-El try to talk about what happened.

Flight makes her faster, if just barely and so she awaits him, already snuggled up on the couch. Kara can’t help herself from smiling instinctively when the key turns inside the lock and she knows that it’s him.

“Hi, babe,” he says and looks tousled and adorable.

“Hi.”

He’s about to start towards her, but stops himself. “Shower?”

Kara shakes her head. “Naw, it’s okay.” She taps the couch next to her. Within a heartbeat, he is on there, with his arms slung around her shoulders. Kara sighs and snuggles up into his chest.

“You wanna talk?”

Kara sighs and squeezes her eyes shut. The truth is, she doesn’t. But they are in a relationship. She owes him this much.

“Not really,” she admits, “But, I really liked what we did today. It was … exciting.” She looks up to him. “You liked it too?”

Mon-El, sweet, cheerful Mon-El, shrugs. “Sure.”

Kara frowns. “It didn’t freak you out, did it?”

He tilts his head. “Maybe? A little?” He laughs to take the tension out of his words.

“Sure you have done things before, with other partners I mean?”

“Yeah, of course.” His eyes are dark and calm in the dark of her apartment and his voice goes soft. “I guess I didn’t quite expect it, with you.”

For a moment Kara considers getting offended and accusing him of thinking that she’s a no-fun Kryptonian prude, but she has a feeling that this isn’t what he’s getting at.

“I might have gotten lost a bit in my head there,” she acknowledges. "I, I don’t want you to think that, … that this means I don’t want to be with you. That you are not enough for me. Don’t think that. Ever! It’s just…” she sighs. “Sometimes I feel like I need a vacation. From myself.” Worry lines appear on her forehead. “Is that alright with you? We, we don’t have to do it again, if you don’t like it.”

“No, No,” his arms around her tighten, hugging her close. “I liked it. It was interesting, to see that side of you. And,” he looks down, “it means a lot that you trust me enough to show it to me.” And she does. As impossible at it seems, she has always, deeply, implicitly trusted him in this area. It makes no sense to even her. If she is honest with herself, she has treated him with suspicion, has even treated his sex life with disdain, has kept him small when it comes to his attempt to heroism.

Because it is frightening. Because she remembers how it was for her. Because when it comes to going and being and hero, it is not about her or them, it’s about so many other people too and the responsibilities they have towards the people. The responsibilities they have as heroes. But when she looks into his eyes, when it’s just the two of them, when it’s just about her heart and her body, something inside of her snaps and overrules all the parts of her brain that wants to be cautious.

Kara blushes. “I guess I could have talked about it a bit more, but, it’s hard for me sometimes to talk about these things.” She sighs and hangs her head. “I think sometimes I don’t even know myself. What I want. What it means to me.” It’s so hard to admit to herself that she feels so out of depth in this area of her life. This area that has laid barren for so long. Before he came along. Came into it like a playful whirlwind. And with her, Supergirl, Kara Zor-El, Last Daughter of Krypton, Defender of Earth, Champion of Hope and Justice wanting that.

Back then it frightened and excited her in equal measures. That she was even capable of wanting this. Before him, she imagined that her forays into sexual intimacy would be measured, loving, perfectly respectful. After all, wasn’t sex, wasn’t love, wasn’t life already confusing enough?

It shocked her she could look at the walking erotic chaos that was Mon-El and be capable of being attracted to that. Being insanely attracted to that, with her heart racing and her body on fire. She’s a hero. Her body is not supposed to be on fire. Or at least she’s not supposed to like it.

Kara still remembers that one impossible moment when she looked into his eyes and gave him permission. The permission to come into her life, her home, her body. It felt intimidating and powerful at the same time, to take that leap.

_There’s nothing stopping us._

His lips ghost over her brow. “That’s no problem. Everybody has their own pace. I look forward to, to taking his journey with you.”

Kara’s cheeks heat up even more and her heart is beating fast. “Thanks,” she murmurs.

“Next time,” he says, sounding lost in thought.

“Next time?” she echoes quickly.

“Yeah, next time. Maybe next time, we can talk about it before we start?” He avoids her eyes. “I mean, I liked it. It was good, and fun, to not know where it was going.” His gaze finds her after all. “But I promise, it’s still fun even when we talk about it.”

Kara buries her face in his chest. “I’ll try,” she promises in a whisper. She gulps and looks up at him. “It’s not easy for me to talk about these things.” Another little worry wrinkle appears on her forehead. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, I do, but it’s always been hard for me.” She sighs again.

“I promise, I’ll try,” she repeats.

“And I promise that it will feel good. We’ll go as slow as you need.”

A smile blooms on her face despite herself. “I’d like that. I think I’d like that a lot.” She lowers her lashes bashfully. “And so will ‘Mike’ and ‘Bianca’.”

Mon-El flashes her a toothy grin. “So, when do you figure will those two be coming around to National City again?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've come this far, I'd love to hear from people what other scenarios Kara would think are hot and would suggest to him. Cop and criminal? Nurse and patient? And who would be who? ^__^


End file.
